


A Bookshop Drabble

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Gay, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 20:35:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20570477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: chrysalism (n.) the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to waves of rain pattering against the roof like an argument upstairs, whose muffled words are unintelligible but whose crackling release of built-up tension you understand perfectly.





	A Bookshop Drabble

Thunder roared in the sky as the sound of a phone ringing filled a particular bookshop in Soho. Nobody was present to answer the aforementioned phone, as the bookshop's inhabitant was peacefully tucked away in Soho's (self-proclaimed) coziest coffee shop. A tartan jacket sat neatly in the corner of the cafe, quietly observing the busy coffee shop filled with a plethora of people seeking to escape the raging storm outside. Torrents of rain smacked the window on the storefront and altered the light entering the shop from the streetlamp outside, leaving peculiar shadows on the red wallpaper across from it. Aziraphale took another sip of his cafe au lait, which was now significantly cooler than it was before. Notes of vanilla and hazelnut danced around his tongue, which tingled slightly from being previously burnt. As the last drops left the mug, Aziraphale hummed quietly to himself and stood from his chair, moving briskly outside to wave down a cab to take him back to his bookshop. 

As the cab pulled up to his destination, the angel noticed a figure dressed dramatically in all black huddled by the door - a figure that was unmistakably Crowley. He smiled to himself as he exited the car and walked up to the door. 

"Crowley, my dear!" Aziraphale spoke over the clap of thunder as Crowley winced, "What brings you here?"

"We'll chat when we get inside," Crowley spoke shortly, "can you open up the door?"

The two hurried inside and simultaneously sighed in relief as the door shut out the storm. A rush of warm air enveloped the two of them, and they both (unknowingly) unclenched their jaws and shoulders at the same exact moment. 

"Heater's broke at my place." Crowley stated matter-of-factly as he draped himself over the couch in the study. 

"Can't you - " Aziraphale decided against finishing the statement. Both of them were perfectly aware that Crowley was perfectly capable of fixing the heater himself - with or without any miracles involved. He was admittedly quite happy to see Crowley, and company was always nice during a storm. 

Crowley must not have heard what Aziraphale began to ask, or he chose to ignore it, but either way the two decided to move on from the current conversation. 

Aziraphale scanned Crowley up and down before clearing his throat. 

"Let's get you some dry clothes, then."

He came back a few minutes later with a baby blue set of linen pajamas, which he set on Crowley's lap before walking to his desk to shuffle some papers. Crowley was expecting Aziraphale to grab some of Crowley's clothes that were already in a closet upstairs, but didn't complain. The material that the angel handed him was quite soft (and something about wearing Aziraphale's clothes made him feel quite warm).

"Alright, you can just change upstairs then, if you want." Aziraphale spoke as he turned around to see Crowley already undressing with his back turned towards him, pulling his shirt over his head to reveal a large snake tattoo covering his back. The dark ink contrasted quite dramatically against Crowley's pale skin, and the moisture gathered on his shoulder blades from the rain almost resembled wings. 

Aziraphale was completely taken aback by the sight of Crowley undressing before him. It wasn't anything sexual, but instead joy that Crowley felt comfortable enough in this space to undress in front of Aziraphale (especially considering how storms already made him quite jumpy). Aziraphale felt his heart overfill with warmth, and his entire body felt soft and gooey, _like a_ _chocolate chip biscuit_, he thought. His eyes trailed down to Crowley's hips, which he noted were quite jagged and small. 

The rest of Crowley's frame was pretty small as well - Aziraphale always knew that Crowley was tall and lanky, but seeing him up close in the flesh (quite literally) made that even more clear. His knees appeared quite wobbly, but sturdy enough to hold Crowley's frame, and his legs were virtually hairless (quite different from Aziraphale's). 

He didn't notice that he was staring until Crowley turned around, fully clothed in an over-sized pair of pajamas with a crookedly-buttoned top. Aziraphale didn't think twice before walking up to Crowley and unbuttoning his shirt to fix it. Crowley jumped back in surprise but let himself relax as the angel buttoned up his shirt properly. Every time his fingertips grazed his torso beneath the buttons he felt his heart rate leap tremendously. Aziraphale noticed that Crowley's skin was quite cold, but he didn't know if it was just a result of the rain, or if he was always like this. Aziraphale paused as he reached the last button. He really enjoyed being this close to Crowley but didn't want to make his reluctance to step away too obvious. He purposefully struggled to push the button through the last hole, and as he did, he looked up at Crowley through his lashes. 

"Damn button..." Aziraphale muttered under his breath, hoping that Crowley didn't notice his stare. 

Right after Aziraphale decided to properly finish buttoning the shirt (he didn't want Crowley to think he was taking too long), a huge clap of thunder struck overhead, and the entire bookshop went dark. 

Aziraphale was so close to Crowley that he could feel his breath. When the thunder clapped the two looked up together, and it was obvious that their noses were almost touching. Neither one of them could see the other, but both were blushing a furious red, and hoping that the other would initiate what they both desired. 

Neither one of them moved. Aziraphale knew he was perfectly capable of summoning light (and Crowley knew as well - he even witnessed it before), but he conveniently forgot about his ability to perform miracles. Crowley did too. 

The shorter man took a step back, unaware that Crowley was beginning to lean forward, his lips apart ever-so-slightly in hopes of meeting a softer pair. 

They didn't. 

Crowley fell forward, sending Aziraphale backwards into the ground, the two landing with a singular thud as Crowley ended up on top of Aziraphale, his nose ramming into the angel's forehead. 

"Oh Jesus, fucking hell, _goddamnint -" _Crowley cursed violently as he realized what he had done - praying that Aziraphale didn't realize what caused Crowley to trip forward. He felt Aziraphale's hands firm on his back and topped cursing abruptly. 

"It's alright dear," Aziraphale spoke softly, his breath hot on his neck as his lips brushed lightly against his skin, "are you okay?"

Crowley was most certainly _not_ okay. The longing he felt to shift downwards and smash his lips against Aziraphale's was all-consuming, and laying on top of him surely wasn't helping. Not to mention the hands on his back made it quite difficult to move. If Crowley didn't move right away, disaster would strike and the world would end. Meeting Aziraphale's lips with his own would certainly be catastrophic, and he wasn't sure the two of them would survive until the end. 

He didn't know who moved first, but he suddenly felt something on his lips. Aziraphale. He felt Aziraphale on his lips. Crowley's heart pounded something dangerous as he kissed Aziraphale back, his neck craning downwards as his lips moved desperately against the angel's. At first his entire body felt electric, then it slowed down to something more warm and calm, like a candle. As soon as Aziraphale pulled away, he kissed him again, softly and quickly on the tip of his nose. 

"I -" the two spoke at the same time. 

"You go first." It happened again. 

"I've wanted to do that for so long," Crowley spoke this time, rolling off of Aziraphale to lay on his back beside him, "you have no idea, angel."

"I think I do have an idea." 


End file.
